


Men Against The World

by LittleDancingRat



Series: Rocky/Ivan Drago [1]
Category: Rocky Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mutual Pining, been meaning to write about these guys for a while now, heres some sad old boxers, takes place right after rocky balboa, this is more comfort than anything else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:55:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22105915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleDancingRat/pseuds/LittleDancingRat
Summary: “Okay,” He wears a dopey grin on his face. “Why though.” He asks.Ivan nears the steps and slows to a halt, facing Rocky now. The taller man shrugs again, electing to tell the truth. “I was thinking about a fight.” He puts his hands up and pretends to punch. Rocky furrows his brows, “You are too,” Ivan cocks his head, thinking of the american word for it, “warm.”Rockys face flushes, even in the cold it's very noticeable. “Warm.” he laughs, and turns to start walking up his steps.
Relationships: Adrian Balboa/Rocky Balboa (mentioned), Rocky Balboa/Ivan Drago
Series: Rocky/Ivan Drago [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591177
Comments: 9
Kudos: 17





	Men Against The World

**Author's Note:**

> Get ready for my C tier writing guys.

Ivan stood outside the door for longer than he expected, one hand raised to knock but refusing to do so yet. He stared at the ground, mentally preparing for what could happen next if he follows through with this. He’s never been very good with people, they were too hard to understand and they were selfish. He saw that with his wife, and learned the hard way. 

The Russian figured that when the door was going to be opened the first thing coming from behind it was going to be a fist aimed right for his nose. And sure, maybe he deserves it but that’s not going to stop him from retaliating. He came here for a fight, was asking for one. What did he have left to lose? This was the man who ruined his career, his marriage, his life. 

He brought his fist down on the door hard, three knocks. Ivan got fired up, his heart started racing. Adrenaline kicked in. He’d walked through all of Philadelphia to get here and he was going to get what he came for. 

Footsteps. They approached the door of the apartment, they seemed hesitant as they stopped right in front of the door and stayed. Ivan forgot the time. It was night and the cold bit into his skin, though it remained unnoticed as he felt more welcome with the weather pertaining to his everyday in Russia. 

The door opened to reveal Rocky Balboa. The man opened it and was met with the chest of a grey hoodie, his brows knit together as he slowly tilted his head up. The russian towered over him, still, and he puffed out his chest to intimidate him more. Rocky stared in shock.

Ivan surprised himself by being the first one to speak, “it’s you.” It came out as more of a question than the threat he wanted it to be. 

“Yeah,” Rocky willed himself to speak, “yeah it’s me.” He stared up at him with a glint of what looked like euphoria. Ivan isn’t sure, he’s bad with people. “What are you doing here Drago?”

That was a good question. What was he doing here? It seemed so clear to him seconds ago. Ivan took in his appearance and almost wanted to laugh. The man was still the same, his hair was shorter and had mostly greyed over but never thinned out. It seemed the only change was his age. Suddenly, Ivan untensed and became soft for the man. What was wrong with him? He came here for a fight, he wanted to humiliate the Italian, but now he wasn’t so sure. “Philadelphia is.. Nice.”

“Is it?” Rocky gave a slight chuckle. He was taking in the large man in front of him and deemed him a friend. Maybe. He then looked down at the ground and focused on his old, worn out socks. He was bothered, that, Ivan could tell. 

Ivan furrowed his brows and had to refrain from reaching out to the man. As much as he loathed him, Ivan felt compelled to comfort the smaller man. “You are bothered?”

Rocky huffed, “yeah, bothered by you showing your mug here,” the man shifted in front of him and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. He kept his gaze lingering on the ground before puffing out a breath of hot air that blows away into the breeze. “No, yeah I’m just-” he sighs, Ivan notices the bags under his eyes and red nose and cheeks being pelted by cold air. He had a broken sort of look to his eyes, like a man beaten to his knees and at his wits end. “Now’s not the greatest time for a big reunion, the weathers freezin and it’s pretty late.” Rocky looks up at the russian, noticing the softness in his eyes. He contemplates his options for a moment.  
“You wanna go for a walk? Let’s go for a walk.” 

Ivan freezes, unsure of what to do and heavily surprised at the offer. He nods to Rocky’s questioning look and waits for him outside in the snow for the man to pull on that damned leather jacket and hat, along with worn laced shoes. Ivan glances up when he hears the door open again and out comes the italian looking the same as he did twenty years prior.

The walk was quiet at first, and they continued down the empty streets at a slow and leisurely pace, cars zooming past every once in a great while. This was strange, everything felt wrong. This situation should have gone so much differently. Ivan at least expected a broken nose but all at the same time, he was walking with an old friend. Someone whose done the same, another someone he could relate to. 

“So what’ve you been up to?” the break in silence made Ivan jump, “same old, same old?” Rocky tilted his head up towards Ivan, genuine curiosity flooding his eyes. Ivan caught himself staring.  
“Nothing of interest,” it was true, he’s been training his son. In fact, that’s what he should be doing right now. That’s why it baffled him he was here with Rocky instead. “Work.” 

Rocky nodded, and Ivan felt the smaller man's gaze linger and glanced down to find a not so sly attempt at checking him out. Rockys face heated up and he tried to cover up his staring with, “You know you got even scarier after all these years,” Ivan frowned. “Not in a bad way, but you’re still a walking tree trunk.”

“You have not changed much,” Ivan gestured to his face, “still tiny with crooked nose.”

Rocky huffed out a laugh causing Ivans lips to tilt up in the slightest. “Gee thanks,” he lightly boxed him in the arm. “Thank Apollo for that one,” Ivan tensed up and stared straight ahead.  
Rocky must’ve been thinking the same thing because Ivan noticed his walk come to a slow stop and he gazed off for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Ivan apologized and began backing up slowly, feeling unwelcome, wanting to just walk away and never speak of this again.  
Rocky sighed and turned around to face the russian, “it’s not,” Ivan had an expression of sheer panic, “it’s okay.” Rocky offered a weary smile. Ivan thought it to be genuine.  
“But,” Ivan looked down. “He’s your friend.” Rocky shook his head and lightly patted his arm.  
“You’re okay.” the italian said. “It’s okay.”

Ivan felt a weight lift off his shoulders and maybe it’s because he’s too old to hold grudges against himself and others anymore. Maybe he didn’t have the energy to keep himself up at night over this nightmare. Finally he felt a little more at peace with it. At peace with himself. “Okay.”

They continued walking again, both comfortable now. Ivan stayed silent.

“Y’know you’re real quiet,” Rocky chuckled. They round a street corner and start heading towards a bridge, Ivan knows because he walked over it on his way over. “Adrian was real quiet too when I first met her. Didn’t want nothing to do with me.” He laughs reminiscing. 

Ivan smiled until he looked down. Rocky's eyes were glossy and he watched the attempt to cover up his shaky voice. The russian pretended not to notice until the first few hot tears dripped down. Ivan tenses back up. He’s not good with people, not great with emotions. He figures the best thing to do is to wrap an arm around the smaller man because that’s what he wants to do. So he does and it seems the contact is all he needs because he feels the man stiffen, then relax into his arms. The tears keep coming and Drago stays silent but he rubs the Italians back and keeps his pace. Rocky is furiously rubbing at his eyes and trying to will it to stop but it keeps coming until it doesn’t. Ivan knows every man has his breaking point, he knows that better than most. Rocky hit his a long time ago, as did Ivan. He understands, and that’s one thing he knows for sure. 

After the tears come to an end and devolves into shaky breaths of air, Ivan still keeps his arm around the man. He feels Rocky lean into him just the slightest and he stays there while they pass over a bridge. 

Eventually, they’ve walked in a circle and are coming back to the small apartment Rocky lives in. As they near it they cut the small talk and Rocky pipes up. “I never asked how you knew where I lived.”  
Ivan shrugs and his face heats up, “I go to your restaurant, front lady tells me where you live. I said I’m good friend.” Rocky nods.

“Okay,” He wears a dopey grin on his face. “Why though.” He asks.

Ivan nears the steps and slows to a halt, facing Rocky now. The taller man shrugs again, electing to tell the truth. “I was thinking about a fight.” He puts his hands up and pretends to punch. Rocky furrows his brows, “You are too,” Ivan cocks his head, thinking of the american word for it, “warm.”

Rockys face flushes, even in the cold it's very noticeable. “Warm.” he laughs, and turns to start walking up his steps.

“твоя улыбка меня согревает, я тебя обожаю.” Ivan gives a longing smile.

Rocky turns around and has a half grin, “what was that?”

Ivan lights up, “Russian.”

“I’m aware of that, what’d you say?” Rocky questions.

Ivan gives a deep laugh and just smiles. Rocky shakes his head muttering under his breath and opens his apartment. He stands in the doorway and looks out at Ivan. “It’s pretty late.”  
Ivan nods and stuffs his hands in his pockets. It’s a long walk home and it wasn’t the safest decision to go at 11 pm. It’d be best if he took a cab home if he could even find one on these empty streets. 

Rocky interrupts his thoughts, “you got anywhere to be tomorrow?” Ivan raises his brows and shakes his head. Rocky stares down the steps at him and gets a strange sense of deja vu. “Why not stay for the night, might as well since you came all the way here to beat me up.”

Ivan looked down the dark streets, dimly lit with bonfires from teenagers and other people struggling to get a grasp on their crazy life. He nods and makes his way up the steps. Rocky grins and pats him on the back before entering the house.  
As he watches the man suppressing shivers from outside and taking off his shoes, Ivan decides that this was the best outcome. That shivering italian tank was what kept him warm. Maybe, Ivan thinks, maybe he isn't that bad with people.


End file.
